The Lessons They Teach
by Casyn
Summary: This is a companion piece to "Through Their Eyes." It will make more sense if you read that first, however you do not have to. Severus always sees them, the hurt ones. He helps them, teaches them. But they also teach him. These are their lessons.
1. Michael

_A/N- This is a compainion piece to the story "Through their eyes". It does deal with abused children, but mostly with Severus. It is not a new way of writing for me, but it is something that I am always a little unsure of. So please let me know what you think. It does not contain any onscreen abuse nor does it have any graphic descriptions of abuse. I am not sure whether this will be a one shot or a series. Reviews help with those decisions. __Thanks. ~Case_

His name was Michael. He was, at the time, a third year Ravenclaw. To Severus Snape it was obvious that something was not quite right with the child. For the last two years he had tried, unsuccessfully, to approach the boy, but Michael was one of the children who shut down when any adult tried to ask him questions. He saw that and he saw the stony mask that the child was always wearing. He saw the way the boy flinched when another student pointed his wand at him. He watched and he observed. He saw much that pointed in one direction. He was almost certain that the teenager was abused. He was also certain that unless the abuse was severe, that there was nothing that he, or Albus, could do. For the boy was a pure-blood and ancient laws, although they have been contested recently, still stood. It was extremely difficult to remove a pure-blood child from their parents, as he had learned with his Slytherins. Abuse was abuse, it did not matter the blood status of the child being abused, but the Ministry did not always see eye to eye with the morals of _normal_people. He kept watching the boy, filing away enough evidence in his mind to hopefully break down his barriers.

When he gathered enough, weeks later, he called the young teenager into his office to discuss an 'essay'. He hated this approach but he did not know how else to approach the boy. So he threatened to write to his father if Michael kept on with his poor grades. When the boy did not react at all, Severus sighed. He did not want to give up on the child, but how could he help him. And then it clicked. The boy's parents were divorced. With that he threatened quietly "I will also have to owl your mother and stepfather, and let them know of your dismal performance in my class." When the boy's eyes finally snapped to him, he froze. It was not fear nor anger, but a look of pain and agony. In that moment, the thirteen year old looked like a little old man. And then the pleads started. "Please professor. Owl my dad. Please don't owl my mum." With that, Severus started his questioning. The 'if you fear what awaits you at home' and the 'I will have to owl your mother unless you can give me a reason otherwise'. He knew it would work; it always worked with the stubborn ones. He pushed and pushed, until finally he had a frightened, crying teenage boy in front of him. He moved slowly, letting the boy see his slowly raising hand. The boy still flinched but relaxed visibly when the hand squeezed his shoulder. A little bit of encouragement and his story spilled forth in bits and pieces. Not all at once, of course. Severus took to letting the boy have some time to think and realize that he was safe, repeatedly telling the boy that he was safe. After the initial break down, he was still met with a stony faced teenager in their weekly meeting but the boy was much more open. It took time, months even, to get the boy to tell him as much as possible about his home life. And he was not the only child that Severus was listening to. But this year, Michael was the worst case he had found. After repeated talks with Albus, they had finally found a way to remove the boy from his home, but the child would have to talk to Albus first. And that was always the hardest part. When he first brought it up to Michael, the child had been angry and had run off. The next time he tried a different tactic, explaining it to the boy. Because, after several weeks of conversation, Severus now knew that he did not like to not know what was happening. A few talks later and he was sitting with Michael in Albus' office, encouraging the boy and offering his support and prompts to keep the boy talking. After that conversation, Albus was able to use his memories and Severus' to convince the Wizarding Child Welfare to transfer guardianship to the father and to terminate the mother and stepfather's custody of the child.

He watched as the boy's mood increased drastically in the few weeks before summer holiday. The boy was thrilled to live with his father, who until recently he had only been allowed to see for one week every holiday. It was a week into the start of term, his fourth year Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff class, when he held the boy back and asked him to meet him on their usual time and day. He had glanced at the boy during the feast, a child who was so drastically different that he had been for the previous three years. Many of his colleagues had pointed this out to him in the staff room; they had congratulated him on reaching a boy that they had failed to. He had shook off their praise and had even flushed slightly when Filius, the boy's head of house, had said that this was "Another one saved by our great Potions Master". He had brushed it off, of course. But he did have to admit to himself, and Albus, that it felt good to have been able to save one of them, this time.

It was with those thoughts that he held his first meeting with the child. He knew that the boy still had a lot to cope with, but Albus had suggested to the father that he take the boy to a mind-healer, a fancy term for what Severus had done for almost a year. Michael looked so much happier than Severus had ever seen him. He also looked healthy, which was something to celebrate indeed. Severus, of course, told the boy that although he was out of his mother's house, that he was welcome anytime in his office and that he would still like to meet with the boy, but every other week for now and perhaps even less in the future, if Michael kept getting better. The boy agreed wholeheartedly. What happened next surprised Severus, even though it had happened before. The boy jumped up and hugged him tight, before quickly letting go and flushing slightly.

"I wanted to thank you Professor. You helped me when no one else could, or would. Others gave up, but you never did. Dad was right. He told me when mum kicked him out, I was six, that those who we have no reason to fear can save us from the darkness, if we just let the light in. You were my light, Professor." Michael grinned at the speechless man, before biding him goodbye, promising to see him in two weeks, at the usual time, and disappearing out the door.

Severus had not said a word, his surprise clear in his eyes. With that he locked his office, checked his schedule and walked to the headmaster's office. He could have floo'd but he needed the time with his thoughts. The old coot called him in before he knocked, something that always annoyed Severus but did not seem to faze him today.

"Meeting with Michael, my boy? How did it go?"

Severus repeated the conversation, hesitating before adding the boy's parting remarks. "I see. What does that mean to you, Severus? To be a lost child's light in his darkest hour?" Albus asked quietly, contemplating the man in front of him. Severus' eyes snapped up to the older man and a brief smile graced his lips. "It means more than most could imagine. I believe he meant that everyone could be saved, if they just let the light, or those trying to help them, in." Albus smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. "Do you think that you can let this light in, Severus?" Although his lips no longer smiled, his eyes held a certain light to them. "Of course, Albus."

Severus Snape had learned a lesson from that boy, a lesson that he would carry with him throughout his days. It was also a lesson that he would teach to the other children who needed him, even if they did not yet know what they needed. That the darkness that surround us was able to be penetrated by the light around us; by those people who would become their light until they were able to light their own path. Severus would be that light for those scared, hurting teenagers, just as Albus would be the light for him. It was not the only lesson that he learned from these children, but it was the first. There would be many more lessons for him to discover but that was alright. For Severus was not just helping these children; they were helping him.


	2. Emma

A/N-_ Another Lesson Learned from the eyes of a child. Written differently, and better in my opinion, than Michael was. Let me know what you think._

She was a Hufflepuff, fourteen and small. Fragile. Severus had noticed that something was just not right with the little fourth year Hufflepuff. Emma had always been quiet, which her professors chalked up to being shy, but she had always had a smile, a beautiful smile that would melt even the darkest of potion master's hearts. A smile that was contagious. And yet, he had not seen that smile once this year. He had started to observe her outside of classes, watching the young girl sit alone, walk alone. Always alone. Emma used to hang around with a group of Hufflepuffs, several whom he noticed looking over at her, trying to approach her. But whether it was bullying or something else, little Emma had become withdrawn and sullen. He was not the only one to notice, the other heads of houses had also noticed that something was off. But when her own head of house could not get a simple word out of the child...well Severus would take it upon himself to find out. He was not a spy for nothing, after all. He just had to watch and wait.

So that was what he did. He watched. Emma did not interact with her year-mates or housemates. She only spoken when called on. And then she had the audacity to fall asleep in _his_ class. She was partner-less unfortunately, or perhaps it was fortunately. With a slight swish of his wand, he vanished the mess of a potion, but did not bother to wake the girl, making sure to turn the flame off. It would not do if she managed to catch her hair on fire. He left her there, sleeping in the back, to focus on those students who were actually brewing, especially those incompetent fools who insisted on being paired together. Both boy were failing but that was not at the forefront of his mind currently. He had a few students, over the years, fall asleep in his class, fewer than any other professor for sure, but it was rare. It was also always a sign of something deeper, clearly exhaustion, but whether that be nightmares or abuse or bullying, it was always a blaring red flag, to him at least. He paced restlessly, offering advice and criticism where necessary, muttering praise where it was due but part of his mind was focused on the mystery of the young Hufflepuff. Unless it was a recent development, which was possible, he usually figured out the abused ones by third year. Some were a bit more difficult, of course. Better at hiding. But Emma was not a child he would suspect of being abused. She was a half-blood, raised in a small mixed community. Her family was not exceedingly wealthy, but well enough off. Emma was a puzzle. One who still slept on, even after he dismissed the rest of the class. He shook his head at the girl who was going to wake the child and the puzzled girl left with a mere shrug. His next period was free. Perhaps it was time to approach Emma.

"Ms. Landow, it is quite time to wake up." Severus remarked sharply, watching as the child stirred briefly. "Ms. Landow! Detention if you do not wake up _now!" _He snarled. The girl bolted upright, nearly knocking her stool over.

"Professor! S-sorry!" She stammered, flinching away from him. Her eyes did not meet his.

"My office, Ms. Landow." With that he strode over there, trying to not look menacing. He held open the door, motioning for the meek girl to enter and gesturing for her to take a seat. After settling himself behind his desk, he observed the frightened girl. After a moment's pause, he started his gentle, gentle for him anyway, questioning. But Pomona was right, the child was completely shut down. "Emma, you fell asleep in _my_ class today. I would like to know why. If you are sick or hurt...if there is anything you want to tell me. Otherwise, I will have to owl your parents." He wouldn't, but he would need to mention it to Poppy. Her reaction was not completely unexpected.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his but instead of fear, there was nothing. No emotion. Her eyes were dead. "You called me Emma." She whispered. Something flitted across her face: pain.

"Yes, Ms. Landow. I did. Does that upset you?" Severus scowled, hiding his own confusion and worry. Most hurting students found comfort in the familiarity.

"No sir. It's just...no one calls me Emma." Was the only answer as her eyes dropped back to stare at her feet. The child who was always in motion was perfectly still. Another red flag to Severus.

"Why is that? Do your parents not call you by your given name?"

"They have never called me Emma." She still did not move, her voice barely above a whisper.

Severus let a small frown grace his lips. Well, that wasn't a good sign. "What do they call you, Emma?" He asked softly. The words that flowed easily from her lips were not ones that he wanted to hear from any student, let alone a fourteen year old child. Usually, he would take points for such swearing or cast a mouth-washing charm, but this was not usually. Never had he heard a child describe herself as that, believe herself to be those fool names. He hid his anger easily, knowing that the child would mistake it as toward her. But it wasn't, of course not. "Emma...do your parents hurt you?" She froze, her eyes locked on his. But she didn't answer. She really did not need to. Severus could read that now open expression of anger and fear and confusion quite well. He had seen it before, too often. The way she moved, so stiffly and guarded... "Would you allow me to cast a diagnosis charm on you? Just to make sure there is no long-lasting damage?" He asked softly. Of course, he could do it anyway, but he wanted her to trust him. He needed her open and talking, so that he could help her. But if he did not have her trust and she shut him out, there would be nothing he could do.

Emma hesitated and rightly so. She was hiding more than just a few old injuries and badly healed bones. "Promise you won't tell?" She whispered quietly, glancing back up to meet his eyes.

This time, he hesitated. "Emma...if it is something serious, then I will have to mention it to the Headmaster, so that we can help you. However, I will not mention it if that is your wish, unless I feel that your life is in danger." He responded carefully. He would still mention it to the Headmaster if necessary, but as he did was the others who asked him to keep it secret, he would just mention that he had found another one and not her name. The headmaster did not have to know specifically who he was helping, but it helped if Albus at least knew what issues they were looking at. She hesitated fora momrnt longer and he almost feared that she would refuse, but then came the small, curt nod. Severus moved slowly, focusing his entire attention on the child and her reactions as he stood, drawing his wand and moving toward her. The girl flinched harshly, scooting as far back into her chair as possible, with those blank, dead eyes focusing on him again. "Emma, it is alright. I will not harm you. I would never harm you or any other child." He stopped a few feet away from her, wishing he could run this particular scan wandlessly, but it was in-depth and would note everything on it. He could start with a more basic one but it would not be easy to explain later why he needed a second scan to the child.

Once Emma had relaxed a bit, he moved forward again. He crouched next to the child and the fear he could sense faded a bit. A murmured string of Latin and a complex wand movement had a quill and a parchment appearing, noting down the child's past. She gasped and glared at him. "An in-depth scan is best for finding long-lasting damage, Emma. You should know that by your year, if you had a competent Defense instructor." He drawled. His comment had the desired effected, the girl giggled and relaxed. Her Defense 'professor' was an idiot and they both knew it. He frowned at the list that continued to grow and sighed. This was more than just physical abuse. Much more. All four types of abuse, perhaps even... "May I see your arms, Emma?" He asked gently. She might refuse, he would not blame her if she did. That would just confirm both the results and his suspicions. Emma hesitated briefly but quickly nodded, pushing up one of her robe sleeves and then the other. Severus took hold of her wrist with a gentle hand, turning it slightly. His deep onyx eyes observed the faint white scars that crisscrossed her arm and the red, angry lines that denoted new wounds, healing wounds. He knew many Slytherins who harmed themselves, the fifth form of abuse, as he liked to call it. Cutting, eating disorders, drinking, drugs...Self-abuse. Usually, the mild cases at least, he sent to Poppy. The others, he tried to work with. But Albus had forbidden him from dealing with serious self-harm cases alone and Emma was a serious case. Not because he could not help them, but Albus worried too much. Way too much. The child had a partially broken rib that he didn't dare fix but he promised...

She hated him for two months after he called his own personal healer. Two months where she spent their weekly hour, as ordered by both the Headmaster and the healer, glaring at him. But finally she gave in, right before winter break. Her question was quiet, simple, and yet powerful. "Why?"

And Severus knew exactly what she was asking, but what could he tell her besides the truth. A simplified truth, yes. But still, the truth. She was, after all, only fourteen. "I could not safely fix your bones, Emma. My only options were to call my personal healer or to let you continue through classes with broken ribs and a badly healed ankle, and that was _not_ an option. Your _life _ is in danger at your 'home'. I cannot just pretend that I do not know about it. I want to help you, Emma. But you have to talk to me. I will help you talk to Headmaster Dumbledore when necessary, but I need you to let me in." Severus replied, without his usual sarcasm and snarl. Sarcasm that she would quickly learn to find humour in, as many of his students did. With her history of abuse, she needed to talk. Albus was working on getting her removed from her home and finding a good home for her, but even with the medical results and Healer Rainwater's own recommendation, it was easier if they had her own account of her injuries, of her life. For it didn't matter if he knew that the child was verbally, physically, and sexual abused and neglected, or even that she was harming herself, if they could not prove it further than just a scan. Stupid courts. Her silence was quickly broken with a small, quiet "Okay."

After that, Severus listened. Every week for several months. The child stayed at the castle for Christmas, against her father's wishes, and received, for the very first time, a gift that she actually liked. Her potions master, her new confident, her teacher, her mind-healer; the one adult who really showed her what being cared for was, had sent her a leather-bound, light blue journal with her name engraved on the front of it. Just her first, that one word that still meant so much to her. _Emma_. Her head of house had taken to addressing her by Emma outside of class, all the heads of houses did. Even the Headmaster called her Emma, the few times he ran across her alone. Perhaps it was merely because Professor Snape had told them to, perhaps they knew her secret, or part of it. None of they looked at her with pity, as some of her friends had when they saw the scars on her back or the ones on her arms. Perhaps they were just being kind or had lost all their marbles. But she didn't care. She would never tired of hearing her name. Something so simple and yet she had never heard it before Hogwarts, before her friends spoke it. And never from an adult, not until Severus decided she was worth his time. That she could be saved.

It was hard to find a family that could support Emma, both emotionally and financially. All of the choices Albus had found either fell through, found a younger child to adopt or foster, or were not willing to take the risk to help a child like Emma, especially one who was a Hufflepuff. Her relatives were a no and the child, although she lived among muggles most of her life, could not be placed with a good muggle family. They could not find one accepting enough of that fact that she was a troubled teenager who was also a witch. Of the three options that remained, two of them weren't really options at all. She could not be returned to her family, even Wizarding Child Welfare Services would agree wholeheartedly on that. Nor could she be sent to an orphanage. With those thoughts, Severus worked hard to get as much information as possible from the child. Even when it meant he had a lapful of crying teenager, which happened more often than he would have liked, but he knew it would. She was not his only case that year, not the only child he spoke with on a weekly basis, inked into the openings that Albus' purposefully left in his schedule. She was one of many, nearly three dozen this year with Filius taking on another two dozen, not counting the students that he did check-ins with once a month. His schedule was full. And yet, he was willing to fight for each and every single on of these children, even if it meant he got less sleep than usual. But Emma was by far the worst, one of the worst cases he had seen in his entire history at Hogwarts. There had been others, of course, but Emma's was pretty horrific, especially for someone so young. The day he wheedled her into talking to Albus, with him there every minute of it, foregoing both his free period, his marking period, and supper that evening so that he could lend his support and help her story along. He knew Albus' plan and it was really the best option, the only option.

Albus had turned both his and Severus' memories of the meetings with the child to the WCW, not in the least surprised when an owl arrived the very next morning. Two owls, one to the new guardian and the other to him, with a note written on the bottom for Severus'. Albus grinned at the note and departed to the dungeons, knowing that the younger man was marking essays and could probably use a break before he failed too many of the students.

Severus read the note for the fifth time, before handing it silently back to Albus. The _Head_ of Wizarding Child Welfare Services had taken the time, after proofing the letter her assistant wrote, to add a personal note to him. A simple paragraph but it held so much weight to it, especially to the dour potions master. _Severus, I would say that I do not know where we would be without you, but I do. I would have fewer cases coming through my desk every day, not because the cases are not there but because they go un-noticed. It is teachers like you who save lives, not people like me. We just find them good homes or try and help their current situation. But you...you talk with them, counsel them, take time from your busy schedule to just listen to them. I know many students call you a hero, even if you never hear them say it. I have. Keep up the good work, Severus. ~Madam Le'am Monstuream _

That letter, however touching, was no where as touching as the now fifteen year old girl, the week after the start of summer vacation. She would be staying, briefly, at Hogwarts, a month perhaps, before heading to the family home of her new guardian. Her head of house had dutifully taken on the duties, having offered to raise the child as her ward until she was of age. But knowing Pomona as he did, he suspected that she would keep track of the girl well into adulthood. Pomona could also get her a real mind-healer, someone who could help with the girl's self-harm. Because although Severus had tried to help with that, his goal had been getting her to discuss her abuse, her childhood, her goals and dreams. To get her talking. He knew that she had stopped hurting herself, working through her problems aloud had helped, but he also knew, they all knew, that she could easily turn back to it if and when she became stressed or upset. Pomona wanted to ensure she had the proper coping tools before the start of her OWL year and Severus was glad for that. But it did not explain why the girl stood in his doorway, clutching a piece of parchment in her hand. "Yes?" He drawled.

Emma blushed, glancing at the parchment and then at him. "I made it in art therapy. For you. And erm, well..I know I am not healed yet professor, not completely, but I wanted to thank you. For believing it me. You taught me something that no one else ever tried to. Two things really. One being how amazing it is to hear your own name!" She giggled.

"The novelty will wear off one day, Emma. Trust me." His dry humour made her giggle even more before he raised an eyebrow at her.

"You also taught me to believe in myself, professor. When you told me a few days ago that your door would always remain open to me, even now that I had a guardian and didn't need you, well that meant a lot to me. You taught me that you cared about me, you taught me to care about others. And professor, you taught me to love myself. I never had before and you taught me that I was worthy of love and care. That I should love myself. So I just wanted to thank you." She thrusted the folded piece of parchment at him, hugged him briefly, and turn to go.

"Emma..."

"No, professor. You don't have to say anything. I know you care. You listened when no one else would. You held me when I was sobbing all over your robes. You made sure I had a safe place to call home. Hogwarts will always be my home, Pomona will give me a second home. And professor? I'll always need you." And with that she was gone, out the door and up the stairs, skipping and singing. It was summer after all. A time for growth and new beginnings.

When he sat in Albus' quarters that evening, having moved back into his own _home_, the room that would always be his, he pulled out the folded drawing, the one he had yet to look out, relying the girl's parting words to his own mentor, his father figure. "I don't have to ask how much that means to you. You have learned the same lesson, son. You have learned to love yourself and to show that you care about others. Now, are you going to share the drawing or not?" Albus chided. With a small sigh, Severus unfolded the drawing and suddenly started laughing. "What, my boy? Share!" Albus demanded, taking the drawing that the younger man offered. He chuckled and shook his head. "Fifteen points to Hufflepuff." Severus muttered under his breath, surveying the brightly painted words, with pictures, once more.

_**Severus Snape- Potions Master, Head of Slytherin, Sarcastic, Funny, Counselor Extraordinary. The kindest, surliest man who just likes to make you giggle inappropriately about the Defense professor. Also, he's made of awesome.**_


End file.
